


Walt's Day of Jury Duty

by H3C70R



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Breaking bad - Freeform, Jury Duty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9693374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H3C70R/pseuds/H3C70R
Summary: My take on the hypothetical Breaking Bad episode idea that Peter Gould & Vince Gilligan had where Walt would have to serve jury duty.  Forcing him into a 12 Angry Men situation.My take involves Walt being on the jury for a trial where Skinny Pete is fighting charges of selling meth, with Saul Goodman as his lawyer.Things take a turn for the worse and drastic measures need to be taken.





	

It felt weird to call in sick to a meth lab, but damnit, this was his civil right. As a citizen of the United States, and more specifically Albuquerque, New Mexico, it was his duty to do his part.

Walter White exited his Aztek, and went inside.

 

...

 

Seated with the rest of the jury, Walt endured the lecture from the judge about not using his cell phone in the courtroom, paying attention to what evidence and arguments are allowed, and which are objected to.

Finally, the prosecution and the defense were coming in. This thing could get started.

Walt's eyes widened into dinner plates when he saw who's innocence he knew he'd be convincing the other jurors of.

Skinny Pete, and his liege, Saul Goodman.

Once seated, Saul looked over and scanned the jury for anyone he thought may be a bit of a bleeding heart, he'd try to talk directly at them, lots of pointing, eye contact. Plant that seed of doubt and watch it blossom into 'not guilty'.

He finally got to the last row of people, where he met Walt's equally confused, angry, and shocked gaze. This was definitely a conflict of interest, but not one they could make known. Skinny Pete, who had noticed Walt but was keeping his head down like he hadn't, was trying to turn invisible. He had no idea why Heisenberg was here. But he didn't like it.

After a small nod to each other, Walt and Saul went back to pretending they didn't know each other. The proceedings started.

"Mr. Peter Baker, you are charged with the distribution of a schedule two narcotic, methamphetamine. How do you plead?"

Skinny Pete stood up, and spoke just as rehearsed,

"Not guilty, your honor."

He sat down, a pat on the back from Saul and things were in motion. Time for opening statements. Saul's favorite. Standing up and facing the jury, he started doing what he did best.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, look at this kid seated before you. Really think about what you see. The sad, sunken eyes. His diminutive posture. The loose, barely fitting clothes. This is not a criminal, let alone someone peddling something like that blue meth that's been all over the news. This is a victim. A victim of society's neglect. Look at how we treat our young people now. It's crazy! -"

Walt had absolutely no idea where Saul was going with this, but he just had to let him continue. He was the professional after all.

"- All this poor fella did, was take an innocent walk around town, but Johnny Law decides he was bored and came to harass him. Simple as that. Nothing was found on my client to implicate him of this crime. It is pure heresy! And I implore you, dear citizens of this fine city, to do your duty, and find my client not guilty. Thank you."

A quick glance between Saul and Walt. They both felt a little better after those remarks. The prosecution stepped up to make their opening statement.

"Two police officers witnessed Peter Baker selling methamphetamine to an underage girl, who was found dead mere hours later, with THIS -"

The lawyer held up a small plastic baggie, containing what looked like blue rock candy,

"- bag of meth on her person. The same one Peter Baker sold to her. That is all, thank you."

They didn't need to look at each other that time, Walt, Saul, and Skinny Pete all sank in their chairs a little bit. This may be a rougher ride than they were anticipating.

 

...

 

The prosecution finished with their first witness, Officer Jeremy Chase. It was Saul's go at cross examining their story. Without a second's hesitation he gave his only statement.

"I have no questions for this witness your honor, the prosecution may proceed."

Skinny Pete darted his head up from off his folded arms and turned towards Saul, who immediately shut down any worries as quickly and quietly as he could.

"Don't worry kid, I got some insider info thanks to my PI. That guy saw what happened, his partner didn't. Not this one anyway. I got this."

The prosecution's second witness was brought to the stand, and sworn in. Jeremy Chase's current partner, Officer Randall Brady. The prosecution went through the same charade as with Jeremy, Randall recounted the story as he was told to. With that over with, Saul stepped up to the stand to question Randall.

"Randall, mind if I call you Randall? Ok, good. Randall, you say that yourself and your partner over there, stumbled upon the defendant in the parking lot of that Citgo gas station. You allegedly then witnessed Peter Baker selling methamphetamine to this young girl, who has unfortunately passed. That's the official version of events?"

Officer Brady nodded,

"Yes, that is what happened."

Trying to phrase it as smoothly as possible, Saul brought up what he hoped would be a key piece of evidence, or rather missing evidence, that could sway some of the jury.

"Then why is there no footage of our perpetrator on the vehicles dashboard camera?"

Easy enough answer,

"Our vehicle wasn't pointed in that direction, we pulled into the parking lot and my door was facing the defendant."

Good, Saul thought, got him in the mood to answer a question instead of avoid it,

"Your partner is, allegedly, responsible for every radio transmission that night, you never, once, touched your radio. Care to explain that Randall?"

Officer Brady wasn't sure how Saul knew that, but it was true. He definitely hadn't been using his radio at that particular Citgo station.

"My radio wasn't working, don't know what was wrong, loose wire or something. Who knows."

Saul could envision the noose tightening around Randall's throat. This was almost too easy, he just needed to give Randall a little bit more rope.

"Right, who knows how radios work, I'm sure there will be a repair order written up shortly so that'll look official. My main point here is. What evidence do you, personally, actually have of the defendants guilt. what's your side of the story, man? What did you personally do that night?"

The prosecution saw what line of thinking he was going down,

"Objection! Your honor. Irrelevant, he already told his version of events that night."

Saul looked up at the judge,

"He recounted, basically verbatim, the same exact story as his partner. The version where he stood around like an idiot while his partner went and arrested someone by himself!"

The judge sighed, it did seem a little strange, and he didn't mind exploring whatever possibility may arise from this.

"If you want to hear someone tell the same story a second time, it's fine by me, personally I thought this would be wrapped up by lunch."

Saul took it for the win it was and asked again,

"Alright, Officer Randall Brady, what specific actions did you take that night?"

Randall couldn't keep his eyes from darting between Jeremy and Saul, he knew what he had to do, and it would look bad. They knew Skinny Pete had connections to blue meth, they'd been following him for weeks. They just never had a good opportunity to snatch him.

"I was drunk sir. I'd just had a nasty fight with my wife, and took a few too many pulls off the bottle before work. I'm ashamed of it, but that's why I didn't touch my radio. It's why all I did was stand around, while my partner arrested someone by himself. If I'd done any official police work under the influence, let alone drive a squad car, I'd be the defendant here right now."

Saul knew this was absolute bullshit, but he couldn't directly ask about his re-assignment happening after the arrest actually occurred. Mike stuck his neck out pretty far to get that information and was already laying low as it was, the thin blue line is still pretty thin. He toned down his voice to more Jimmy-esque level and asked,

"Are there any other officers who can corroborate this story? Besides the one who just heard it in this courtroom?"

A long sigh from Randall,

"No sir there are not."

It was as far as he was going to get with what he had, it wasn't a sure thing, but it would plant that seed of doubt again. Hopefully a help for Walt once the jury deliberates. Under any other circumstances Saul would be loathe to assist him with anything, but Walt was technically paying for this defense out of his slush fund, so it all worked out morally in his head.

"No further questions."

 

...

 

During the recess Saul stopped at a payphone on his way back from grabbing lunch. Depositing two quarters, he dialed Walt's burner phone. Walt picked up, but wasn't saying anything. Didn't recognize the number.

"Walt, it's Saul. I gotta tell you what's really going on with this case. You there?"

Walt had no idea what in the world Saul could be on about, he already knew he had to convince the other jurors that Skinny Pete was innocent.

"What do you mean 'really what's going on' with this case?"

Saul wasn't sure if he should bring Mike up or not, the less people that know the better.

"I got some insider info, there's something fishy with Randall. He was assigned to be Officer Chase's partner the night of Peter's arrest. Word is he was assigned after the fact. The original guy wouldn't go along with planting evidence is the story I got. So they fudged some paperwork and made it look like the switch happened a week ago."

Walt nodded his head in approval at no one in particular, this was some good stuff. He figured Mike must have really put himself out there getting it.

"Was he really drunk? Seems irrelevant now I guess, but if he wasn't it may help me persuade the other jurors."

That was an answer Saul didn't have.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say no, but to be honest, no one I know had eyes on the guy. If we'd known they were following Pete around, this would be a different story. But you know, hindsight's twenty-twenty and all that."

Walt just sighed, paused for a second, collecting his thoughts. Everyone in this town knew Saul Goodman represented scumbags and had the reputation of a bush league shyster. Even if he had good points in the courtroom, that flashy suit has 'my client is guilty' written all over it.

"Walt, you there?"

"If I the jury comes out against him on this and I can't sway them otherwise... he can't stay in jail. Hank will be on him with a vengeance... Probably use that as evidence to file for some surveillance on you I imagine."

Jesus, did Walt just say Hank's name and then connect both of them to Gus's meth ring. Smartest guy in the world and he can still be a fuckin' idiot sometimes.

"Yeah, sounds like good times. Look, I gotta get back to the courthouse."

Walt needed to make sure Saul knew the implications of what he was saying.

"If Skinny Pete winds up in that holding cell, we need to break him out, understood?"

Saul could almost feel his arm going numb from a heart attack he hoped he was having,

"Yes, jesus, I'm glad this is a payphone. Bye."

Saul slammed the receiver back in place, took a breath, and muttered to himself,

'goddamnit'

 

...

 

There wasn't much left of the trial once the recess was over. Skinny Pete took the stand, gave all the softball answers to all the softball questions Saul asked; and denied everything when the prosecution tried to get him to crack.

It was now out of Saul's hands and up to the jury. Walt headed back for the deliberation and hoped for the best.

Once all twelve people were seated around the conference table they'd be sharing, one man immediately spoke up,

"Well, this shouldn't take long, kid is thirty-one flavors of guilty. With Saul Goodman as his defense? That just makes it even more obvious."

The rest of the room seemed to agree besides Walt, who just gave a wide eyed look of confusion at the man,

"Sir, with all due respect, did you even listen to what went on out there? What evidence is there against that poor young man, Peter Baker?"

The other guy whipped his head around in anger,

"Of course, Mr. Pedantic over here. I remember you Mr. White, my kid had your chemistry class. You failed him and made him take summer school. Told him, 'Not to bullshit, a bullshitter' I believe."

Walt's face dropped noticeably, he was about to go into maximum bullshit mode to try and counter this. Don't bullshit a bullshiter indeed.

"Ah yes, yes, Jerry Ragsdale. Your son Barry had my class, and, he did fail. One can always argue that a teacher needs to be responsible for the way they present information. Making sure every one is absorbing it. I'll admit I could be a little strict, but all I wanted was for your son to really live up to the potential I saw in him. And for the record, I don't see how this is relevant to the proceedings at hand."

Mr. Ragsdale threw his arms up,

"Because you always play devil's advocate, I mean, PTA meetings with you were like an interrogation! Listen, everyone, those cops saw what they saw. Who are you going to trust, some tweaker and his two-bit lawyer? Or a trusted defender of our community? The justice system is trying to take a dangerous criminal off the streets, and that's all there is to it!"

The murmurs of agreement were louder than before, everyone else nodding their heads in approval, casting sideways glances at Walt. About to be grasping at straws, he didn't have much left to go with. It was no use having that information from Saul, knowing he couldn't just come out and say any of it.

"The prison sys..., hey, excuse me. The prison system is run for a profit. You think it's a coincidence that they pick up this kid, with NO evidence, save for a very small bag of meth, not found on his person by the way, but found on the body of... that poor girl, and her death is a tragedy, I mean truly, what a horrible world for such a young person to thrust themselves into,-"

Walt felt a sick chill run down his spine. It didn't matter if Skinny Pete had sold her that meth or not. Walt had still cooked it, and someone would have sold it to someone else eventually.

"-but the point is, if we don't keep prisons full, prisons can't make money, prisons don't make money, they shut down. It's simple economics. Really! We need to dive deep into this and find out who's really at fault here. There is something dubitable going on here, and I think you all know it."

A stunned silence from the room, Mr. Ragsdale responded not with venom, but with a sad almost patronizing tone.

"Walter. Are you really suggesting that the Albuquerque police department are kidnapping citizens and throwing them in jail for money? That's ridiculous and I think, you, know that."

Walt was used to being the alpha in situations like this. Able to shut people down with little more than a glare and some choice words. This whole thing had spiraled out of control and he had no idea how to save it. In fact, he reasoned, there was no way to save it. He just had to plan for what would come next. With a deep sigh, he gave in.

"I suppose you're right Jerry. Let's go deliver the verdict."

With that, the jury re-entered the courtroom, and found Peter Baker guilty of distributing a schedule two narcotic, methamphetamine.

 

...

 

A couple hours after the verdict came in, Walt and Mike were in Saul's office. The three of them trying to hatch a plan to spring Skinny Pete.

Saul was admittedly in a little over his head. It had been more than a couple of years since he'd done anything resembling this kind of legwork, and 'resembling' was using the term pretty loosely. He just waited for Mike and Walt to analyze the situation, and hopefully figure something out.

Mike put a couple pieces of graph paper on Saul's desk, hand drawn maps of the courthouse.

"Alright, if we can keep things quiet, we'll only need to worry about the two night shift guards at the cell, and the one guard watching the CCTV. We can't get to the CCTV room from the holding cell entrance. Building is designed that way on purpose, on account of not wanting people to break into it and all. We'll have to take out the cameras from outside somehow, Walt I'm sure you'll think of something, and get Peter out quickly and quietly."

Walt was blank on the cameras so far, wanted to buy himself some time to think,

"Well, first question, how do we get Skinny Pete out?"

Mike's face didn't change, he figured one of these idiots was going to ask a dumb question at some point.

"The guards at the cell, will have keys. I'll take care of them, don't worry about that, I just need you to figure out the cameras. And Saul, I need you ready in the getaway car."

Saul had, what he thought should be, a pretty obvious problem with this plan,

"Whoa! Hey there Danny Ocean, literally everybody at that courthouse will recognize my face. You want me to just sit in an idling car, with a neon sign around my neck that says 'Accomplice'?! No thank you!"

As calmly as ever, Mike pointed out what he thought, should have been obvious.

"Wear a mask, and for the love of god I hope you own some black clothes."

Saul just sank back into his chair. Silence hung for a couple seconds until Walt thought of something.

"Mike, how many cameras specifically will we be dealing with? And where exactly are they?"

Mike consulted his map again,

"Five cameras whose field of vision we could be in at any given time. They are static, so you don't have to worry about movement, but the overlap gives them no blind spots."

Walt kept rolling with his idea,

"And how quickly can you get inside, get Skinny Pete out, and get into the getaway car."

Mike took a second to play the scenario out in his head,

"I'd say three minutes tops. Probably more like two."

Walt nodded approval,

"Good, good, I think I've got something. You'll need to drop me off out of camera range, and I'll need to be able to have a clear view of all five, without being seen by any of them."

Mike shook his head,

"Well, I'm pretty sure you down't own a ghillie suit. So next idea?"

Walt took a pencil from the office supply holder on Saul's desk, and drew five lines on the map.

"Look, right there, I need to be in that precise spot, figure out where that is, in the meantime, I need to go get some supplies. Definitely have to stop by the school,-"

Walt looked down at his watch,

"-which will be closing soon."

Without further comment, Walt got up and left, leaving Saul and Mike in the office.

"So, Mike... You have any idea what he might be thinking for this? I know he's Mr. Science and all, but we gotta cover our own asses in case he gets too fancy and, well, you know... Goes all Icarus on us."

Mike looked down at the map again, the five straight lines looked an awful lot like a plan he'd have used,

"Yeah, pretty sure he's gonna go make a few camera zappers. It's a little old school, but it's right up his alley."

Saul tightened his brow in a quizzical fashion, Mike continued,

"You attach a laser to a rifle scope, hmm... With more prep time I'd use a pistol mount laser sight, but that's me... Anyway, you attach a laser to a rifle scope, mount that to the stabilizing platform of your choice, aim the laser at the camera, instant debilitating lens flare.

Mike paused for a second again,

"Or maybe it's blooming, not lens flare, I can never get the two of them straight. Either way, it messes up the camera pretty good."

Saul's eyes widened slightly as he nodded,

"Lasers, cool."

 

...

 

The three of them had met up and gotten into a car Mike had 'acquired'. Now on the outskirts of the courthouse, Walt got out, bringing a couple protractors, a pen, and some paper on a clipboard. He laid low and started setting out his laser pointer camera zappers. He gave the go ahead that everything was in place.

Mike got out and walked to the very edge of the camera's field of vision. Walt taped the buttons down one by one, after a second he gave Mike the second go ahead signal. Saul started to creep up behind him as Mike made his way to the entrance.

Mike waited for the two guards to open the door from the inside, they'd already have been alerted to the emergency in their area. The lock clicked, the door opened, and the first guard was down. The second guard tripped over the first's unconscious body, falling and smacking his head on the pavement. Mike appraised the situation and decided neither one was getting back up anytime soon, pocketing his leather blackjack he bent down and grabbed the key ring of the second guard's belt, and walked inside.

Skinny Pete was busy trying to make himself as small as possible in the corner of the cell. Trying not to visibly shake from how terrified he was. Mike walked up to cell door and unlocked it, swinging it open.

"Alright kid. Time to go."

He didn't get up,

"Peter, time if of the essence. You need to come with me, and you need to do it now."

Skinny Pete couldn't will himself to move from that spot, he finally said what he was sure was true.

"Heisenberg sent you here to kill me, but you can't do it here. More guards will come soon man, they're gonna get you!"

Mike sighed, he should have thought of that, this little dipshit didn't know 'Heisenberg' was outside helping with the escape.

"Kid, if I wanted to kill you, here would be a perfectly fine place to do it. My fingerprints aren't on anything, I can just walk out of here now if I wanted to. You stay in that cell for one more second, that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Pete hesitated again, but got up this time and went with Mike outside, into the getaway car. Mike wanted a hood on Skinny Pete, but Walt knew that he was aware he was Heisenberg, he just didn't know he was Walter White. So Heisenberg wanted to have a face to face chat with Peter Baker.

They stopped only long enough to have Walt jump in the car, and peeled off again, in the opposite direction than they came. They were gonna do a lot of driving, get as far away from the courthouse as possible.

No one in the car said anything until they were deep enough in the desert they knew no one was still after them. Walt put his hand on Skinny Pete's shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes,

"At the courthouse today, and it is very, very important that you tell me the truth. Did you hear anyone use my name?"

Skinny Pete recoiled away from Walt's hand,

"No man! No! I swear! You're Heisenberg! That's it!"

Walt leaned in closer, purposefully ignoring Skinny Pete's personal space,

"You say you swear it, so swear it on your own life. That you don't know my real name. And know, that if I find out otherwise, and I will find out. You're a dead man."

Pete started breathing harder, feeling like he was going to pass out, it had been a long time since he last encountered Heisenberg at the Nuclear Science & History Museum. The stories he heard through the grapevine since, didn't make him believe Heisenberg had softened with age.

"Yeah man, I swear it. I swear on my life. I don't know who you are man, please just don't kill me."

Walt held eye contact for a few seconds longer before softening his expression slightly,

"Good. Alright kid, you did good. Let's get Peter here wherever he needs to go."

So after the drive back from the desert, they got back to Walt's Aztek, then Saul's Cadillac. Finally Mike drove the stolen car up to his own Chrysler.

"Get out, go sit in the back of that black car, keep your head down. I'll be there in a second."

Skinny Pete walked over to Mike's car, climbed into the back, and laid down across the bench seat. Mike opened the glove box of the car he'd stolen, took the owners manual out of it's faux-leather case, and lit it on fire. He threw it in the back seat and walked back over to his own vehicle.

"Alright kid, where you headed."

without a second's thought Skinny Pete replied,

"Drop me at the Crystal Palace man, I gotta score right now, I mean, I'm ALL shook up yo."

Mike wanted to reason with him, but it was no use. He dropped him off and drove around the city for awhile, flipping through some AM stations before settling on the news. Nothing about the daring escape so far, probably soon though. He did know one thing that might still be a loose end. The cameras outside were blinded, but the one inside wasn't. His identity wouldn't be verifiable, since he was wearing a ski mask, but the audio would be clear as day. That little shit had to say it...

 

...

 

Walt parked his Aztek and walked in his house. Skyler was awake, sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette, holding the lit end over a mug of water. Walt knew she'd have something to say about his suspicious entry.

"Didn't know you could get overtime at a meth lab."

Despite trying to suppress it, Walt couldn't help but snicker lightly at the comment,

"I'm a salary man, thank you, it's called dedication."

Skyler smiled behind her cigarette but didn't say anything.

Walt walked out of the living room and down the back corridor to the bathroom to shower. Skyler turned on the TV to see the breaking news about a prisoner escaped from the courthouse's holding cell, believed to be connected with the Blue Sky methamphetamine ring.

She didn't know exactly how to feel about it, so she decided not to feel anything. Another glass of wine was what she felt like, so it's what she got.

 

...

 

The next morning, Hank Schrader walked into his office, sat down at his desk, and put his coffee down on the desk blotter. On top of his 'Incoming' pile of papers was a security tape. A post-it with the underlined word 'URGENT' stuck to the front.

He cued it up on his computer through the converter near his desk, and watched.

A slightly taller than average male, wearing all black and a ski mask in the holding cell of the Albuquerque courthouse. This was obviously from Skinny Pete's break out the night before. He couldn't quite make out what Pete was saying from inside the cell. Hank turned up his volume to full and tried to listen through the static and interference. And there it was.

"Heisenberg sent you here to kill me."

He wound it back multiple times to make sure he'd heard it clearly.

"Heisenberg sent you here to kill me."

He needed to rush this down to the lab, if they could clean up the audio, they might be able to match the voice of the masked assailant. No one was in the room, but Hank couldn't help but say out loud.

"This time I got you, you son of a bitch."


End file.
